


The Blue Between Us

by FinchInTheWoods



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:52:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinchInTheWoods/pseuds/FinchInTheWoods
Summary: Raven is alone on a mountain and oblivious to the impending doom below. Until, a magical rock presents her a letter from Gage, a lone man living in Alaska. The two exchange letters through this rock and develop a very unique relationship. Little to they know, they're not the only ones left on the Earth





	The Blue Between Us

April 14th, 2196. That’s the day my life turned upside down. When the dew on the grass still remained, and water droplets fell from flower petals. The coming spring was suspended in the air, like the moment after you take in a big breath of air and you’re holding it in. 

I was walking through the garden that day, hands brushing over the damp ferns as my bare feet traversed over the small cobbled path. I stopped at my favorite stone bench under the willow tree and took a seat. That morning was peaceful. You could still smell the rain in the clouds, and a thin fog was shrouding everything. I knew that when the sun finished rising and the first ray of light pierced the clouds, it would go away. That’s when I moved my feet over an inch and my heel brushed against something. I looked down to see a thin piece of paper sticking out from under a large decorative rock. I lifted the rock and removed the paper, being careful not to disturb the patch of lilies it was sitting in. 

This is when my life went to hell, and the fog that was shrouded over my eyes- not unlike the one over the garden- was lifted. The first rays of reality touched my soul, and I was reborn.

  
  
  


Dear Person,

I have no idea if this is going to work. My grandmother told me a story of a magical rock that could transport small things, such as a letter, before she died. The rock she described sounds exactly like the one I’m putting this letter under. She mentioned the rock had a counterpart somewhere in the world, but who would have a magical rock in the middle of this desolate wasteland? 

The solar flares have completely destroyed California. Unending forest fires, deaths by the millions. It’s chaos. I was forced to move to Alaska with my grandmother, but now she’s gone, along with the rest of the world. If there was even one more person living on this Earth, I would be saved. I think I’m the only one left. 

Help me, please.

I’m so alone…

-Gage

 

The writing is so rushed, so lonely… How is this even possible? A magic rock? You’ve got to be kidding me. Magic isn’t real. And what is he talking about? Solar flares? The only weather I get up here in the mountains is rain, snow, a sometimes a little 80 degree heat in the summer. When my parents died of lung cancer, they told me to never go down the mountain side. Animals and horrible men live down there. So I cultivate my own food, make my own clothes, and entertain myself. This man must be insane. He does sound lonely though, so I’ll humor my own curiosity and respond.

I take the letter in hand and walk with purpose back up to the house. When my parents moved here to Japan, they built us a modest 2-story modern minka, or japanese style home. It’s very open and airy, with gauzy white curtains and lots of clear glass windows. I follow down the hallway and turn into my father’s study, where he would finish his lesson plans and grade his student’s homework. I sit down on the mat in front of his desk and take out a piece of old parchment and an ink pen.

 

Dear Gage,

I’m only writing this letter so as to quench my own curiosity, because there is no such thing as magic. Who in the world would believe this? 

I have no idea what you mean by “desolate wasteland.” The mountains of Japan, where I live, are very beautiful this time of year. The cherry blossoms have started to open up as well. It must be hard living in a cold place such as Alaska. Why don’t you go somewhere else? I’ve heard it’s very warm in Mexico during the spring.

I still have no idea what I’m doing in writing this letter, but it has been nice to pretend to talk to someone.

Yours Truly,

Raven Equestrial

 

I finish the letter with my signature, and I tuck Gage’s letter in one of the desk drawers before standing up. I take my new letter and travel back down the old weathered path and tuck it under the rock. Magic. Ha. I remind myself once more how absurd this is before heading inside to finish my daily chores. 

Little did I know, that letter will be the death of me. 


End file.
